Heroes and Legends: The Birth of Legends
by GetOutOfMyBathroom
Summary: Heroes get remembered, but legends never die. A world in crisis needs heroes to save it. In doing so, they may become immortalized through their deeds. First part in a multi-part series. Multiple OC's and alternate story lines.
1. Welcome Home

**What is up people? Some of you may notice that this is different. You'll notice I took down a lot of chapters. Well I am making some major changes to the story to make it a bit easier on myself. People who have been reading, I know some of you liked the POV style and told me to continue using it but when I sat down and started planning out more of my story I realized that the style didn't really suit my ideas the way I wanted it to. Now I'm thinking that I might occasionally do brief POV chapters here and there but it won't be a regular thing. Hopefully it will make sense when I do it. I would like your thoughts on the style change. If you don't like it, I am open to suggestion and if I get enough negative reaction I will change back to POV. This is just an experiment. As a result of the style change, there will be less chapters but they will be longer so nothing is really being lost. I own nothing. Enjoy **

The Imperial Legion down a road in the frigid land of Skyrim, land of the Nords. Skyrim was a land of civil war at the moment. Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm had called all true sons of Skyrim to battle the Empire they had long been a part of and become a free land. The Empire had sent only its best and most capable leaders to deal with the problem. After months of hard fighting, the Legion had successfully ambushed Stormcloak and captured him. The end of this bitter war seemed to be close at hand.

Carts filled with Stormcloak prisoners trudged along the muddy road towards Helgen where Ulfric and his rebels would be executed. But Stormcloak rebels were not the only ones on these carts. There were a few who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. One of those men was a Nord named Stigr Land-Strider, who sat on a cart unconscious with Ulfric Stormcloak, two other Nords, and an old Imperial. He was a tall man with dark, shoulder length hair and a lean build compared to most Nords. The thing about him that stuck out the most though was his piercing blue eyes.

Stigr had been crossing the border into Skyrim when he got caught in the ambush. He was coming to Skyrim for the first time. It was the land of his fathers and his journey had led him here. But his journey was just beginning. His cart hit a bump in the road and he stirred awake.

"Ah, you finally awaken. You were trying to cross the border, right?" a blonde Nord across from Stigr said. "Got caught in that Imperial ambush same as us and that horse thief over there." He motioned to a skinny and haggard Nord sitting next to him.

The thief spoke, "Damn you Stormcloaks! Everything was just fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. I could have been halfway to Hammerfell by now!"

Stigr may not have ever been to Skyrim but news travels fast in Cyrodill. He knew that the thief was referring to Ulfric Stormcloak and his rebellion. _Shor's cock! _Stigr thought to himself. _This is just fucking wonderful. I haven't even been in Skyrim one day and I've already been mistakenly captured as a rebel soldier._

"You and me," the thief was now talking to Stigr, "we shouldn't be here. It's the Stormcloaks that they want" Stigr could hear the fear in the thief's voice.

"We are all brothers in bonds now horse thief!" the blonde Nord across from Stigr practically yelled. Stigr winced as a sharp pain shot through his head as the cart ran over a bump in the road.

_At least now I know why I was asleep. _Stigr thought as he shook his head.

Stigr finally decided it was time for him to speak. "How long was I asleep for?" he asked the blonde Nord across from him.

"About 2 hours would be my guess," the blonde Nord said. "My name is Ralof by the way. Ralof of Riverwood."

"Stigr. Stigr Land-Strider," he replied.

"What about you horse thief?"

"Lokir. My name is Lokir." Stigr could tell that Lokir was trying very hard to keep the fear out of his voice.

"And how about you Imperial?" Ralof was now addressing the old Imperial man next to Lokir who honestly looked like he had been asleep this whole time. The man appeared to be nothing more than a dirty old beggar with greying hair and an unkempt beard. The rags he wore were identical to the ones worn by Stigr and Lokir and the man reeked of stale alcohol. But looks can be deceiving and when the man lifted his head there was certain hardness in his eyes. There was definitely more to the man than his appearance let on.

"Call me whatever you want. Only frightened children exchange pleasantries as they head towards their death."

"Shut up back there!" the soldier driving the carriage shouted back at all of them.

"What's his deal, huh?" Lokir said while motioning to the large, gagged Nord sitting next to Stigr. This man was nearly as tall and was broad shouldered. He had blonde hair and steely grey eyes. His very presence was one of pride and command. Even bound and gagged, though clearly angry, he still sat proud.

"You watch your tongue! You speak to Ulfric Stormcloak! The true High King of Skyrim!" Ralof shouted at Lokir. The tenacity in his voice suggested the immense loyalty Ralof had for the man he called king. The sheer force of his command caused Lokir to visibly flinch.

"Ha! High King? Is that what he calls himself now? He fancies himself a true king does he? Tell me, what kind of true king sends his land into a world of shit and piss just so he might have power? Ulfric Stormcloak only cares about himself and his own power regardless of what he says to masses of fools in order to inspire them." The Imperial was stating with disgust and mockery in his voice.

"How dare you! Ulfic is a great man and-"

"I said shut up back there!" the driver cut off Ralof. His irritation was obviously growing.

The cart continued down the road and the beautiful landscape of Skyrim passed before the eyes of the prisoners. They all sat in silence for a moment to take it all in as they realized that this may be the last time they ever see it. Stigr was especially diligent putting it to memory, as this was the first time he had ever been to the land of his fathers.

"Where do you hail from horse thief?" Ralof broke the silence.

"What does it matter?" Lokir was nearly to tears. He knew what would happen to them soon.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of his home." Ralof stated calmly.

Lokir responded in a low voice, barely above a whisper, "Rorikstead. I am from Rorikstead." At the thought of his home Lokir visibly calmed if only ever so slightly.

The carts began approaching a small town. Guards were posted on the walls constantly on the watch for any threat that may come to the town. Inside the walls people went about their day-to-day lives almost as if they didn't notice the military procession coming in.

"General Tullius, sir. The headsman is waiting," an Imperial soldier on the wall called to the leader of the procession, General Gaius Virinius Tullius.

"Good. Let's get this over with," the white-haired General Tullius spoke in a flat tone. Clearly he wanted this over with as soon as possible. This may be important but there was no reason to drag it out.

"Look at him," Ralof spat. "General Tullius, the military governor. And the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves."

There was obvious disgust in Ralof's voice as he spoke of the Thalmor.

"Ha! Something we can agree on Nord," the Imperial man said. As the carts rolled passed General Tullius the Imperial seemed to try and hide his face from the general. This went unnoticed by everyone on the cart except for Stigr.

_That's strange. I wonder why he didn't want Tullius to see him? _Stigr wondered.

"Ah, Helgen," Ralof said seemingly ignoring what the Imperial had said. The Nord wanted nothing to do with the Imperial after the latter's disparaging comments about Ulfric. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Vilad still makes that mead mixed with juniper berries."

"Papa, where are they going?" a small child who looked to be about nine years old asked while sitting on the porch of a small home as the carts moved on by.

"Go inside little cub," his father told him calmly.

"Why? I want to watch the soldiers," the boy protested.

"I said go inside now!" the father now ordered.

"Yes papa," the boy sadly conceded to his father's request. It was for the best. No child should have to bear witness to the fate these men were headed to. Not at that young of an age.

The cart slowly rolled to a stop and Lokir flew into a panic.

"Wait! No! Why are we stopping?"

"Why do you think?" Ralof replied as he put on a stoic face. "End of the line."

One by one prisoners hopped off the carts and lined up where the soldiers told them. Legionnaires with lists began reading off names of prisoners and then sent them towards the awaiting executioner and his audience. Seeing this sent Lokir into a panic.

"Please! You have to tell them we're not with you!" Lokir desperately pleaded with Ralof.

"Show some fucking courage and face your death with honor thief!" Ralof scolded Lokir. Though harsh, the words rang true to every prisoner. Even Stigr and the Imperial, neither of whom were Stormcloak soldiers but just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, accepted that there was nothing that could be done for them.

An Imperial captain, a Redguard, as well as young Imperial soldier, a Nord whom Ralof identified as an old friend, approached with a list and began reading off names.

"Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak," the soldier called.

The proud Jarl walked without hesitation and showed no fear. He even walked close to the Legionnaires and gave them a defiant glare. Even in death he would not let them take his honor.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," Ralof said with sad admiration.

"Ralof of Riverwood," the soldier said the next name on the list.

There was certain sadness in the soldier's voice as he called Ralof's name. It is not an easy thing to summon an old friend and send them to their death.

"Lokir of Rorikstead"

"Please! You have made a mistake!" Lokir pleaded. "You can't do this!" The horse thief was in complete hysterics. Fear wrecked every part of his body. He was not ready to die. He was not a Stormcloak and did not want to die with them. So he did the only thing he could think of. He ran.

"You'll never catch me!" he shouted as he ran.

"We don't have to," the Redguard captain spoke calmly. "Archers!" she shouted and with a closing of her fist the archer took aim and killed the horse thief in a matter of seconds.

"Stupid," the Imperial man muttered as Lokir's lifeless body lay on the ground.

"Anyone else feel lucky?" the captain sneered as if she was hoping someone would try. "No? Continue tribune."

The Nord with the list turned towards Stigr and the Imperial to address them.

"That was the last name on my list," he told his captain. "You two. Who are you?"

Stigr was first to answer, "My name is Stigr Land-Strider. I am not a Stormcloak. I was crossing the border from Cyrodiil and was caught in the ambush and knocked unconscious. I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

The Imperial man spoke next.

"What will it matter? Telling you who I am won't change what happens next."

The Nord soldier checked his list and turned to his officer. "Captain, they are not on the list. What should we do with them?"

"You could let us go," Stigr tried to suggest.

"Damn the list. They go to the block," the captain ordered.

"I'm sorry," the soldier said with genuine remorse.

"No need to apologize lad," the Imperial man spoke with sincerity. "There is nothing you can do about it. You are simply following orders."

Stigr and the Imperial walked towards the headsman's block. The closer they got to the rest of the prisoners awaiting execution, the more they thought about how they deserved a better death than the one that awaited them. They stopped next to the rest of the prisoners. Looking at them were various soldiers of the Legion and a few Thalmor agents. Even some of the townsfolk had gathered to see the executions.

"After everything I did in the name of the Empire, they are the ones who kill me. It's almost like a poem," the Imperial whispered thinking no one could hear him. But Stigr heard him. Before he could question him, General Tullius began to speak to Ulfric.

"Ulfric Stormcloak," he began. "You stand accused of high treason for causing a civil war and the murder of High King Toryyg. Using the power of the Voice to kill is dishonorable. For your crimes, you and your men will be executed."

As General Tullius finished a priestess began to say a prayer to the Divines.

"For the love of Talos shut up and let's get this over with! I haven't got all day," a Stormcloak prisoner interrupted the priestess.

"Very well," was the now incredibly irritated response of the priestess. It was obvious to everyone that she was not at all pleased with being interrupted.

The Stormcloak prisoner approached the block with his head held high. He was forced to his knees by the Redguard captain and his head was shoved onto the block. But like a true warrior he stared right at the headsman.

"My ancestor's are smiling at me Imperials. Can you say the same?" the man asked right before the axe separated his head from his body. The man died with honor.

"Fearless in death as he was in life," Ralof spoke. He was truly saddened by his shield-brother's death. It was never an easy thing to see a comrade die.

"Next prisoner," the captain shouted. "You there, the Nord in the rags."

The captain was pointing at Stigr. He took a brief moment to compose himself before walking up to the block. Though in reality, it was only a few feet away, it was the longest walk of Stigr's life. As he reached the block a loud roar was heard in the sky. But it was not from any beast any man there could recognize.

"What was that?" the captain asked.

"It's nothing. Proceed," General Tullius ordered. It was fairly easy to see that he wanted to get this ordeal over with. Tullius never did care for executions.

The captain nodded to General Tullius and forced Stigr to his knees and put his head on the block. The sound was heard again but it seemed closer this time. Now everyone at the execution was curious. No one could identify what it was and it was causing a few people to panic.

"There it is again," the soldier with the list, said.

"Shut up! Continue," the captain barked. Her patience was wearing thin.

Stigr's head was on the block and he decided to due what the previous man had done and look the headsman straight in the eyes. As the executioner raised his axe, Stigr's life flashed before his eyes. He felt pride when remembering some of the things he had done but he mostly felt guilt and sadness for not being able to do the things he had not yet done. He had made promises to people he loved that he would not be able to keep.

The headsman's axe was fully raised and about to come down on Stigr's neck when the something happened that no one expected.

"What in Oblivion is that?"

A giant black beast had landed on the watchtower behind the executioner. It had scales as dark as night and was as large as a house. Rows of jagged teeth in a twisted maw seemed to be smiling maliciously at all who saw it. Giant, black wings spread out and eclipsed the sun. But it was the beast's eyes that truly caused all the fear. They were glowing read and full of evil.

"Dragon!"

Stigr had been knocked back when the dragon had landed and was in a bit of a daze. He stumbled onto his feet and turned to see the dragon. The beast of legend seemed to sense this and looked straight into Stigr's eyes. Blue met red as the two stared at each other.

"Dovahkin!" the dragon spoke in the way only true evil could.

But Stigr showed no fear when he saw the dragon. That surprised even him. He did not know why he did not feel fear when looking into this terrifying monster. The dragon noticed his lack of fear and opened its mouth. Fire began to from in the back of its throat and it was ready to unleash it the defiant Nord. But before the flames could be unleashed, an arrow hit the dragon on the side of the head. The dragon shook its massive head and knocked Stigr off his feet. Stigr flew nearly 20 yards before landing back on the ground and sliding another few yards. Luckily the dragon was no longer focused on him and was instead dealing with a group of soldiers. With the dragon's attention temporarily diverted, the old Imperial man ran up and grabbed Stigr.

"Come on! We have to run," the Imperial said in a calm and commanding tone. He too was showing a surprising lack of panic in this whole situation. The young Nord said nothing as the old Imperial supported Stigr's dazed state and found them both some cover behind a house. He looked out from behind the wall and was small groups moving towards a keep.

"I see people moving towards the keep," the Imperial told Stigr. "We may find protection in there or possibly a way out. Most keeps have secret exits in them so we may be able to find one in there. Are you alright?"

Stigr was starting to regain his senses and nodded in return. He rose to his feet and dusted some dirt off of his shoulders. Both of their hands were still bound but they could deal with that in the keep.

"Let's go," the old man said and they took off.

They wound through the streets always finding new cover. Both men were saddened when they saw the young boy who had been watching them enter the city standing frozen in fear next to the body of his dead father. The sadness turned to fear as they also saw the dragon land near him and begin to turn towards the boy. Both men began sprinting to the boy. Stigr's long legs allowed him to shoot past the Imperial in a blur towards the boy. He moved with incredible speed and scooped up the boy just as the dragon spit a stream of fire from its mouth. Having not burned anything alive the dragon took off towards a different section of town to bring terror to the people of Helgen.

The Imperial man ran to where Stigr and the boy had taken cover. The boy was sobbing into Stigr's chest. He was scared of the dragon and distraught at his father's death. Stigr rose to his feet with the boy still in his arms and continued with the old Imperial towards the keep.

As they approached the keep, Ralof and a few Stormcloaks yelling at some Imperial soldiers led by the Nord with the list.

"Fools. They argue as the world burns around them," Stigr said with anger.

"You traitors! I hope the dragon takes you all to Oblivion!"

"We are escaping and we will kill you on the battlefield!"

"You stupid bastards!" the Imperial silenced the arguing parties. "A dragon is burning the whole damn town down and you two stand arguing. Shut your mouths and get in the damn keep!"

Realizing their stupidity, both groups promptly entered the keep without another word. Stigr followed with the boy still in his arms and the Imperial entered last, closing the heavy doors behind him.

**Thoughts? Please let me know if you think the style change is a good idea. New readers just let me know what you think. Please review.**


	2. Through the Keep

**More revisions for old readers. New readers, just enjoy this as if nothing existed before it as is my wish. Continue reading amigos. I own nothing except an old guitar and an empty bottle of booze. Enjoy**

The deathly quiet of the keep was in deep contrast to the screams of horror and death that were just outside. The thick stoned walls of the keep seemed to drown out all of the noise of the outside world. If one did not know otherwise, they might say that there was nothing happening outside. But these men did know better.

The room they had all entered appeared to be the barracks for the guards in the city. Beds were everywhere in the room along with various weapons and armor stands. Bottles of empty mead and wine littered the floor. This room was untouched by the chaos outside. Many of these guards were dead now. There was no way they could have known that when they woke up this morning it would be their last day on Nirn.

Stigr and the Imperial man were still bound having not had an opportunity to cut their ropes. The young boy Stigr had saved no longer sobbed but was instead as deathly quiet as the keep they took shelter in.

Ralof approached Stigr with a small dagger and began cutting off his binds just as the soldier was doing the same for the old Imperial man. Stigr owed his life to that shaggy old man. He had saved Stigr when all he had to do was save himself.

Ralof had finally finished cutting through the ropes that had bound Stigr's hands. He rubbed his wrists were the rope had irritated the skin.

"Feel free to grab some weapons," the soldier was saying as he finished cutting the Imperial man's binds. "I feel that you are going to need them."

"Gratitude. What is your name Nord?" Stigr asked the soldier.

"Hadvar," the soldier replied.

Ralof glared at the man now known as Hadvar. It was a look of disgust but it was also more than that. It was a looked of sadness and disbelief. Clearly the men knew each other. They had been friends before this was and they had chosen different sides. It was a shame to see friends parted by the horrors of war.

Stigr moved over towards a weapons rack to see what was available. There were some short swords and a few axes. None of them were really what Stigr would usually use. So he settled for a short Imperial gladius and gave it a few practice swings. The balance was good it appeared to have been sharpened recently. It would have to do.

The Imperial man walked up next to him and also grabbed a gladius. He examined it in almost the same way Stigr had. He too seemed satisfied with his blade.

"Are you sure you know how to use that?" Stigr asked the Imperial.

"Do you?" the man responded with a small smile.

"I may have used one once or twice before," Stigr answered wryly. "Seeing as our deaths are on hold for the time being, what is your name?"

"You can call me Marcus."

Stigr nodded and Marcus went to rejoin the rest of the group. Stigr however went over to where he had left the child. The child had not moved since Stigr had left his side to get a weapon. The events of the day still obviously weighed on the child.

"We have to keep moving," Stigr began saying to the boy as calmly and soothingly as possible. "We are not yet safe. I need you to stay close to me. I will not let any harm come to you. I promise."

The child nodded slightly and slowly rose from his seat on the bed. He then followed Stigr over to the rest of the group.

"There is a secret exit that leads to a cave," Hadvar began, "that cave will then lead out to a road that will lead us to the closest town. Let us try and avoid fighting anyone. We have a large group with both Stormcloak and Legion. Our first priority should be to get as far away from Helgen as we can."

The Legionnaires and the Stormcloak rebels agreed with that much. The top priority should be survival. Not only that but there was a child with them and only a monster of a person would want to put him in any more danger today than he already has been.

Hadvar led the group through the door with Stigr taking the rear. The young boy walked wearily in front of him. He would occasionally look back at Stigr. He would give the boy a reassuring smile and encourage him to keep going. He meant what he had said to the boy. No harm would come to the child.

They had been walking for about a minute when they reached a gate. Hadvar pulled a lever and they all entered a round room. However, a voice stopped them in their progress.

"Halt! Hadvar what are you doing with these prisoners?" It was the captain that had been overseeing the executions. She is the one who had sentenced Stigr and Marcus to death for no reason other than that they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. She approached the group with two other Legionnaires accompanying her. "And why do the prisoners have weapons?"

Hadvar was unsure of what to say. There was no way to explain this to a captain who had already demonstrated that she was not the understanding type. The captain commanded him, "Speak!"

"We are trying to escape. The dragon is the biggest concern now. We have to get as many out as we can-" Hadvar tried to explain before being cut off by the captain.

"They are prisoners who were to be executed. Kill them now or you will be killed for aiding criminals," she said coldly as she drew her sword.

"Please! There are more important-" Hadvar was cut off as one of the Stormcloak soldiers charged the captain and her men. Ralof and the other followed and soon the soldier with Hadvar joined the fray. Hadvar was frozen in place. He did not want to kill anyone right now. There was no reason to fight when they were all running from the same thing. So he just stood and watched the skirmish take place before his eyes with Stigr, Marcus, and the child watching with him.

The first Stormcloak chose to engage the captain by wildly swinging his war axe at her head. This proved to be a mistake as the better-equipped and better-trained captain easily ducked the blows and plunged her sword into the rebel's gut. Ralof and the other Stormcloak were faring much better. Ralof had easily dispatched a Breton soldier and was now engaging the soldier who had been with Hadvar. The other Stormcloak was locked in combat with a Redguard legionnaire.

"Please," Hadvar pleaded, "Stop this. No one else needs to die."

The other Stormcloak soldier was able to over power the Redguard with a powerful strike that split the man's skull. But before he could turn to aid Ralof a sword exploded out of his chest stained with his own blood. Just then Ralof viciously decapitated his opponent. The captain pulled her blade from the dead Stormcloak. She raised her head only to find herself surrounded by the escaping prisoners and Hadvar.

"You filthy traitor!" she screamed at Hadvar. "How dare you betray the Legion? How dare you help these dogs!"

"It is you who betrays the Legion," Marcus spoke as he stepped towards the captain. He had his sword pointed at the captain. "You betrayed the Legion by forsaking your honor to justice and protecting those who need it. For that you will die." He then took a defensive position, ready to take on the captain.

The captain screamed and charged Marcus. It was shocking to everyone to see how easily the old man seemed to parry her strikes. She swung furiously, putting all of her might into each blow. Marcus sidestepped one of her overhead strikes causing her to overextend herself and lose balance. As she fell forward Marcus brought his sword down on her neck, decapitating her.

"Bitch," Marcus muttered with disgust.

"So much for not fighting our way through here," Stigr quipped.

"We should keep moving," Hadvar said in a small voice. The weight of allowing his superior officer to be killed troubled him deeply. He looked at her headless corpse, "You stupid, arrogant bitch. All we had to do was run from the dragon."

"Do not for one second think this was the wrong thing to do," Marcus said to Hadvar as reassuringly as possible. "We have to survive and we did what we had to do. She used her power to abuse those beneath her and she did not deserve her rank. She died because she did the wrong thing. She chose to not have honor and she has paid for that with her life. You, however, have honor and are living because you are doing the right thing. Now focus and let's all leave her with our hearts still beating."

The Imperial's words inspired Hadvar and with a nod of his head, he took the lead again. He would lead the rest of them out of here. It was his duty as a soldier of the Legion. He led them down a corridor when a cracking was heard in the ceiling above them.

"Look out!" Stigr shouted as the ceiling caved in just ahead of them. Stigr covered up the child and everyone jumped backwards to avoid the falling rocks. When the dust cleared they all saw that the corridor was now blocked. Luckily there was a door to their left that led to a kitchen.

"This should lead us around the rubble and to the next room we have to get to," Hadvar said.

However just as they walked through the door four Imperial soldiers saw them and decided to attack. They weren't even going to bother questioning Hadvar like the captain had.

"Kill the prisoners," one of them shouted.

The group of survivors sprung into action against their attackers. Stigr pushed the child out of the way as a soldier charged at him. The soldier took a swing at him, which he deflected with ease. The soldier then attempted a thrust at his midsection. Clearly this soldier was inexperience in combat as Stigr was effortlessly able to spin away from it and bring his own sword down on the soldier's arm. After the soldier's arm was removed the soldier barely had time to cry out in pain as Stigr quickly plunged his sword into the man's neck.

On the other side of the room Hadvar was having difficulty with another Imperial officer though a much lower rank than the captain. The officer was pressing Hadvar back with a vicious onslaught of strikes. Hadvar was barely able to keep up no doubt due to him having reservations about fighting an officer.

Stigr ran towards the two men just as the officer kicked Hadvar to the ground. Stigr saw a chair just ahead of him and leapt up onto it as the officer was raising his sword to finish Hadvar. With an enraged battle cry Stigr launched himself off of the chair towards the officer. Hearing the cry the officer turned his head to see the Nord flying through the air coming right at him. His shock evident on his face, he was unable to defend himself and Stigr brought his sword down across the man's face essentially cleaving it in two. He then walked over to Hadvar and helped him off the ground

"Gratitude," Hadvar said to Stigr sheepishly.

"Not a problem my friend," Stigr responded with a small smile.

Marcus and Ralof had defeated their opponents rather easily so Stigr gathered the child and they all proceeded through the kitchen. They were able to gather a few supplies in the kitchen but it wasn't much. Most of it had most likely already been looted.

They walked through the kitchen exit and walked down stairs. Down a short hallway they could hear sounds of battle and magic. They all ran to a small dungeon where some Stormcloaks were fighting a few Legionnaires with a mage shooting lightning everywhere.

The mage was causing the most damage and panic so he became the top priority. He was too dangerous to get very close to and no one had a bow. Luckily, Stigr found a dagger on the ground not five feet away from him. He looked back to make sure the boy was still safely hidden behind Hadvar and the doorway they just came in through, Stigr dove towards the dagger on the ground. He was able to grab it during his roll and he launched it at the mage from his knees as soon as his roll stopped. The blade soared through the air and embedded itself in the mages right eye. The Imperial let out a cry of pain and fell to the ground dead. After the lighting stopped Marcus began shouting to try and end the fighting.

"Sheathe your fucking blades! We are all running from the same thing now. Stop this foolishness and continue through the keep!"

The fighters ceased battling each other and continued to make their way out of the keep. One of the Legionnaires offered to stay behind and help any other survivors who came through. Stigr, Marcus, and Ralof grabbed a few septims lying around before leaving the dungeon. Hadvar then led the group through the keep's secret exit into a cave. Luckily in the cave they found two bows and a couple dozen arrows that had been left behind. After gathering those they began crossing a small bridge. But once again the ceiling started to shake.

"Move!" Ralof shouted. Stigr picked up the boy and they all sprinted across the bridge just before a large rock crashed down on it and destroyed it. Their relief was short lived as they realized that they had just run straight into a giant spider nest.

Three giant Frostbite Spiders looked at the group hungrily. The front one, the biggest one, raised its head and shot blue-green venom at Marcus. He dove out of the way just in time to avoid it. The spiders then sprang into attack.

Stigr put himself in between the lead spider and the boy immediately. The boy was screaming in terror as the spider pounced at them. It tried to swat the two humans with its legs but each time Stigr was able to deflect them with his sword. When an opening presented itself he thrust his sword straight into the spider's head, killing it within seconds.

Hadvar and Ralof were dealing with one of the other spiders and Marcus had the last one. With the bow he just obtained, Stigr knocked an arrow and fired it at the spider attacking Marcus. The arrow hit just where the head met the body and the spider let out a shriek of pain. The distraction allowed Marcus to drive his sword into the spider's eyes and kill it.

The spider attacking Hadvar and Ralof was quickly dispatched due to their combined efforts. Ralof was able to bash the arachnid's head in with his war axe while Hadvar distracted it. After taking a moment to regain their composure, Hadvar continued leading them through the cave.

As they finally appeared to be approaching the end of the cave, they all became relieved that they were almost out. Light could be seen at the end of the tunnel. However before they could rush towards the exit Ralof stopped them.

"There is a bear sleeping over there," he said, pointing at giant ball of fur about 50 yards away. "I'd rather not deal with it so I say we sneak past it. Or if you feel lucky, you can try and take it out with one of the bows."

Seeing as they had two bows at their disposal and the added difficulty of five people sneaking past a bear, they decided it would be best for them to take the bear out. So Stigr and Ralof each knocked an arrow and crept a few feet closer to the bear.

"On three," Stigr whispered to Ralof. "One. Two. Three."

Both of the men released their arrows and they sailed through the air towards the sleeping beast. Their aim was true and the arrows struck their bear center mass, hitting the heart and lungs. After a few seconds pause to make sure it was dead, the group rushed towards the light and out of the cave.

As they exited the cave, however, a roar erupted through the air causing them all to take cover. The giant black dragon flew over their heads. Panic of discovery filled all of their hearts. They hid patiently waiting for the dragon to fly a safe distance away from them. Once they deemed it a safe distance away they all emerged from cover.

"Could that have really been a dragon? I thought that they had died out long ago," Hadvar asked.

"Apparently not," Marcus replied.

"Who is behind their return?" Ralof questioned. "What does it mean?"

"This I do not know," Marcus said. "But I'd wager we will find out soon enough."

Both Ralof and Hadvar accepted this answer. It wasn't as if the dragon was going to attack once and then disappear again. It would likely continue to attack until someone killed it. Suddenly Hadvar spoke up.

"We both come from the village of Riverwood. Seeing as we are safe for the time being we should go there. It is less than half a day's journey from here and I am sure you will be welcome and allowed food and rest."

Stigr and Marcus both agreed to this and with the boy in tow they all began walking down the road towards Riverwood. But though they were safe for the time being Stigr could not shake the feeling that this would not be the last they saw of that dragon.

**So what did you guys think? Coming together right? I am liking my revisions. It is much easier for me to write which is perfectly suited to my laziness. Please review guys and be penguins. Penguins are cool.**


	3. On the Road

**Sup people. New chapter up. Some of you may have noticed that I resubmitted the story completely. It was mostly done to get rid of reviews that were no longer relavent but it also is to help me refocus on writing. I'm not editing as much as I am writing new stuff. Also I didn't want some of the old reviews to influence my new chapters as much. There were things some of you liked in the old version that I didn't so I didn't want to feel pressured to put that stuff in or feel guilty for not putting it in.**

**So Stigr and Marcus have just left Riverwood to go to Whiterun. Hamming is staying but he will be important in the future. I have some big plans for him. There's some good action in this chapter so let me know what you think of it. Get your fill too because I don't think the next one will have much since they are meeting with Balgruuf.**

**I own nothing except broken dreams. Enjoy.**

It was close midday on the road to Whiterun. Stigr and Marcus were just a few miles north of Riverwood. They had taken the mission alert the Jarl of Whiterun of the dragon attack at the request of the town. If the dragons had returned, the town was unprotected and would need more soldiers. During these tumultuous times, it seemed safer to both men if they went to Whiterun together.

The pair had departed the town just before mid-morning after staying the night in the town. Ralof's sister, Gerdur, had been kind enough to provide the two ex-prisoners with food, bath, and rest. In the morning she gave them some better clothes and a few other supplies they might need on their journey to Whiterun. She had even decided to allow the young boy from Helgen to stay. It had taken awhile, but surprisingly, it was Marcus who finally convinced the boy to speak. He revealed that his name was Hamming. The boy had been sad to see both men leave. Hadvar's uncle, Alvor, the blacksmith even allowed them to take a weapon from his shop. Both men were grateful for the assistance and after a brief goodbye, they had set off on the road to Whiterun.

"Tell me," Stigr broke the silence, "what brings an Imperial to Skyrim? Your skill with a blade leads one to believe you were once part of the Legion."

"The tale of how I came to Skyrim is long," Marcus began. "But I was once part of the Legion, yes. That is all I will say on that matter for now."

"Of course," Stigr replied. "What crime did you commit to find yourself on path to execution?"

"A tale I am saddened to tell for I dishonored myself greatly," Marcus said with remorse. "The Legion passed through a village en route to the ambush. I was piss drunk outside the inn of this village when soldiers approached me. My state amused them and they taunted me. They insulted me with harsh words and spat on me. I should have controlled emotion better but I was too angered by their actions. Not just the taunts but also the way in which they conducted themselves. The way they acted was proof of why so many look down on the Legion now. So I attacked them. I still managed to best one before the other two knocked me unconscious. I awoke the next day on the cart waiting for the Stormcloak prisoners to join me."

"They would kill you for that?" Stigr asked in disbelief. He could understand a prison sentence but execution seemed rather extreme for assault.

"You are too young to truly notice how far the Legion has fallen since becoming puppets of the Thalmor," Marcus answered with both anger and sadness. "As I said, many look down on the Legion and no longer respect them in the way they once did. Any chance they get to show they are still worthy of respect and that they should be feared to a point, they will exercise it."

Stigr nodded his head slowly in response. It was definitely something to think about and something to be wary of. It would be best for both men to say out of trouble. The two continued down the path in silence for a little while longer until Marcus broke the silence.

"This is your first time in Skyrim," Marcus said. "Why did you come? Had you not heard of the current state she is in?"

"How can you know this," Stigr said taken aback by Marcus's deduction. "I have told no such thing."

"There was no need for you to," Marcus responded with a smile. "You speak in a way that one who has lived only in Cyrodiil would. Despite you being a Nord, you speak with no Nord accent and your skin is far too dark for you to have lived anywhere other than the Cyrodiilian climate for a long period of time."

"That is incredible," Stigr said with his jaw nearly hanging open in amazement. How was one man able to know so much about a person just by looking at him?

"When you have lived as long as I have and seen as much as I have, you learn to notice things," Marcus replied noticing Stigr's expression. "So why come now?"

"Like yours, it is a long story," Stigr said with regained composure. "For now I will say that I keep a promise to someone I hold dear. "

"Fair enough," Marcus said understandingly.

As the two men continued walking down the road, two small cliffs appeared on each side of them. They were just tall enough that neither man could see the tops of them.

"I wonder if any bandit camps are near here," Stigr questioned.

Fate, being the cruel mistress that it was, decided to punish Stigr for his curiosity. From behind a large rock a few yards up the road, three bandits walked out.

"It appears you have answer," Marcus quipped as the leader of the bandit trio, an Orc with a large hammer, stepped forward.

"Give us everything you have and maybe we will let you live," the Orc commanded. The two Nord bandits flanking the Orc drew their axes for emphasis.

"You may be the most simple-minded shits alive," Marcus berated the three adversaries. "Three men sacrifice the element of surprise to shake down two armed men? What in Oblivion made you think this would work?"

"Who said there are only three of us?" the Orc replied with a smirk.

"It makes no difference," Stigr said as he drew his longsword. "Come and see head parted from fucking neck."

"Poor choice," the bandit smiled. He brought is fingers to his mouth and whistled.

With that signal nine more bandits appeared on the cliffs. They all had their weapons drawn. Unfortunately two had bows and there was nowhere for Stigr and Marcus to take cover.

"It seems he is an honest man after all," Marcus stated in a matter-of-factly tone as he drew his gladius.

"Oh, gratitude I had not noticed," Stigr replied sarcastically.

"We need to engage them," Marcus whispered to Stigr. "The idiot archers do not have arrows ready. If we engage the others before they do, we can take away any shot they might have."

Stigr nodded in agreement. The bandits may have them outnumbered but they clearly lacked intelligence. It was something Stigr and Marcus could hopefully take advantage of and live. So without another second's wait, both men charged the bandits.

With a fierce cry, Stigr was the first to engage. One of the flanking Nords met him as the other ran to meet Marcus. The bandits from the cliffs began moving down from the cliffs while the archers struggled to find a shot to take. Stigr and Marcus were executing the plan to perfection. They worked together surprisingly well given their short amount of time together. Back-to-back they parried and dodged the various strikes from the bandits. But despite their success, the situation was proving to be dangerous. If they killed their foes soon, they were targets for the archers. If they continued to stall and prevent the archers from shooting, they would be overwhelmed. They needed a way out.

As if the gods had noticed the danger the men were in and decided to intervene, a large battle cry erupted from one of the cliffs. Looking up, Stigr and Marcus saw a mountainous man with a large battle-axe decapitate an archer. The giant man then jumped off the cliff with a roar and landed on top of another bandit, crushing him. Stigr and Marcus took the opportunity this new ally presented and began to dispatch their foes. However they still remained wary of the second archer.

Stigr and Marcus hacked away at their opponents while keeping an eye on the giant Nord. Although he seemed to be on their side, it was still a possibility that he would come after them after dispatching the bandits.

After pulling his sword out of the chest of a bandit, Marcus saw the giant Nord engage the bandit leader. The Orc was obviously more skilled than the other bandits but he was no match for the Nord. The sheer strength of the massive man amazed Marcus as he caught the Orcs hammer during a swing and wrestled it from his grasp. The Nord then picked the Orc up and slammed him on the ground head first, breaking the bandit's neck and killing him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus saw the bow from the dead archer lying on the ground a few feet away. He made a move for it. Though he himself was not a skilled archer, Stigr had proven to be a very capable one. If he could get the bow to Stigr then perhaps they could deal with the other archer. Just as Marcus reached the bow, an intense pain shot through his upper leg. Looking down he could see an arrow sticking out of his thigh.

Quickly scanning the field Marcus saw that Stigr was still fighting two bandits while the giant Nord fought another. Two more bandits were still making their way towards him. Looking up, Marcus could see the bandit archer readying another shot. He saw the bow within his reach and grabbed it. The archer fired an arrow that would have hit Marcus had he not just moved to grab the bow. Grabbing that arrow out of the ground, Marcus knocked it onto the bowstring and moved himself on to one knee. With a deep breath Marcus drew the bow back and took aim. The bandit archer was beginning to ready another arrow when Marcus released his shot. As the arrow soared through the air Marcus prayed to the Gods that his aim was true.

The Gods seemed to have heard the prayers of the Imperial as the arrow struck the bandit in the throat. The man tried desperately to stop the blood but there was nothing to be done. With a few more choking breathes, the bandit fell dead off of the cliff.

However, his victory was short lived as two more bandits came charging at him. His sword was out of reach and he no arrow to fire from the bow save the one in his leg. The wound would make it even more difficult to defend himself. Marcus was in a tight spot.

Stigr saw Marcus's predicament as he pulled his sword out of a bandit's throat. He was too far away for him to do anything before the attackers reached him and so was the giant Nord who had just cleaved a man in two with his axe. All that Stigr could do was hope that the old man could hold them off long enough for him to get over to Marcus's location.

But before Stigr could take off towards the old Imperial an arrow whizzed through the sky and struck one of the attacking bandits in the eye. The other bandit froze and looked around to see where the arrow came from. It was a stupid move for the bandit to provide an archer with a non-moving target because seconds later an arrow came out of the tree line on the cliff and struck him in the chest. The bandit dropped to his knees as blood poured out of his mouth.

From the trees a hooded archer emerged and slid down the cliff. He walked up to the dying bandit and drew a knife. The man then leaned down to talk to the bleeding man.

"Now, there aren't any more of ya, are there?" the archer asked putting a knife to his neck.

"No," the bandit choked out.

"You best not lie to me lad," the archer continued. "See, me and my friend here are already angry at a few of your mates back at your camp. See, they told us there were only eight of you set up on the road here. But I look around and I count eleven dead bodies and one wounded one. Last I heard twelve is more than eight.

"Why if it wasn't for these other two travelers," he gestured to Stigr and Marcus, "My friend and I might've died. I don't like the idea of dying. So I'll ask you again. Are there any more of your boys hiding around here? If you answer truthfully, I will show mercy."

"I swear," the bandit began to sob. "There are no more men. Please, help me."

"Okay lad," the archer spoke as he stood up and sheathed his knife. "Okay."

As he stood the archer knocked another arrow and drew back his bow.

"Wait!" the bandit cried, "You said you would show mercy."

"That was if you answered truthfully," the archer said. "Drop!" he shouted as he spun towards Stigr and fired his arrow.

Stigr was almost too shocked to listen to the archer's command. But he did as instructed and hit the ground as the arrow soared over him. He rolled onto his back to look behind him and he saw the arrow strike a Redguard bandit who had been trying to sneak up on Stigr in the throat. The Redguard fell straight forward onto the ground as blood gushed out of his throat.

The archer then took his knife out again and moved towards the wounded bandit. Seeing this, the bandit's eyes grew wide with panic as he began to sputter.

"No, please," he pleaded in desperation. "I'm sorry, I didn't know he was there. You have to believe me. I don't want to die."

"Okay lad," the archer spoke. "I believe you."

The giant Nord with the axe walked up beside the archer. He gave the hooded man a nod.

"But he doesn't," the archer said as he turned his back to the bandit.

"What?" the bandit asked fearfully. He saw the giant raise his axe high above his head. "NOOOOOOOO-"

The large bearded Nord brought his axe down on the wounded man's head. Blood and skull fragments splattered all over him. The man looked down at the bandit's corpse with a sad expression.

"May the gods show you mercy," he said in a thick Nordic accent.

Stigr had walked over to where Marcus lay and examined his wound. The arrow had gone through the thigh about half way down. Luckily it hadn't gone through the middle of the leg and had only pierced a bit of the leg.

"Well, pull the damn thing out already," Marcus commanded.

With a nod, Stigr moved his hands to the arrow. He broke off the shaft just above where the arrow had entered the leg. Then he pulled the rest of the arrow through. Marcus grunted in pain.

"Can you still walk?" Stigr asked as he tore off a strip of his cloak to tie around the wound.

"I'll be fine for now," Marcus answered. "But when we get to Whiterun, I will have to go to a temple to get it properly cleaned and treated. My life story would have a shit ending if I die from an infection."

Stigr laughed as he helped Marcus back up to his feet. A slight grunt of pain escaped Marcus as he put weight on his injured leg. But after a few seconds of adjustment, he was ready to move. Both him and Stigr made their way over to the two men who seemed to be their allies at the moment.

"Gratitude for the assistance," Stigr thanked the two men. "I am not sure we would not have survived had it not been for you two."

"You both look to be smart and capable men," the hooded man spoke. "I'm sure you would've figured somethin' out. But you're welcome none the less."

"We are very fortunate that you arrived when you did," said Marcus. "Why did you he us?"

"We've been tracking these bandits for a day now," the hooded man answered. "They have a camp about a mile east. Me and Bjorn here found it mostly deserted save for a few sentries. We took them out and found out the rest of were waiting here to ambush travellers. Although those bastards did lie about how many were here. So I guess we're lucky you two were here as well. Saved us from a nasty surprise you did."

"So you are mercenaries then?" Stigr asked.

"In a manner of speaking my friend," The archer answered.

"What should we call you, 'friend'?" Marcus asked a bit distrustfully.

"Shor's cock, where are my manners," the archer replied removing his hood. "The name is Ari and this talkative fellow next to me is Bjorn."

After removing his hood, Ari was revealed to be a Nord as well with medium length, light brown hair. He was clean-shaven with a strong jaw. He also seemed to have a permanent smirk etched on his face. The man was handsome and he knew it. Ari held out his hand to shake. Both Stigr and Marcus accepted the man's hand and shook it. Bjorn however did not move.

"I take it he's not the sociable sort," Stigr questioned pointing at Bjorn.

"Oh don't mind him," Ari replied. "He just prefers to stand around and look scary. But he's a real softie at heart."

Scary did not seem like a strong enough word to describe Bjorn. The man was a mountain of muscle with tattoos all over his exposed torso. Neither Marcus nor Stigr had ever seen a man so massive. He towered even over Stigr. His wild red hair and bushy beard made him look as if he had spent his whole life in the wild. His fierce eyes were fixed on both men.

"Obviously," Marcus quipped.

"What about you two?" Ari asked.

"My name is Stigr and this is Marcus," Stigr answered.

"Did I hear you say you were headed to Whiterun?" Ari inquired.

"Yes, but our business is our own," Marcus answered a bit harshly.

"Easy now old man," Ari assured with a smile. "I'm trying to force anything out of ya. He doesn't trust us too much Bjorn."

"Can you blame him?" Bjorn asked.

"What do you mean?" Ari answered with another question.

"Why should they trust us?" Bjorn began in his thick accent. "We are mercenaries. Clearly they are intelligent men and your charms do not work on everyone. Were I in their position, I would not trust the two, armed men either. We just executed a man."

"You are right my friend," Ari responded with a serious tone. Apparently he was affected by his companion's bluntness. "Apologies to the both of you. It was not my intent to offend or cause feelings of distrust. I sometimes forget that we live in very troubling times. "

"No," Marcus answered. "I apologize as well. You two saved us when we needed it. Not many in these dark times would risk life for strangers. Gratitude."

"We are headed to Whiterun as well," Ari replied. "We need to collect the bounty on these bandits. If you are not opposed to it, we can travel together. Strength in numbers and all that."

"A wise plan," said Stigr. "But let us move quickly. We have been delayed long enough and our business in Whiterun is urgent."

"Understood," Ari replied as he put his bow on his back. "One moment please."

Ari drew a small axe from his side and walked over to the Orc bandit. He kneeled down, raised the axe above his head, and brought it down on the bandit leader's neck. He then wrapped the head in a piece of cloth and put it in his pack.

"Proof," he answered the unspoken question Marcus and Stigr were wondering.

With that, the four men continued on the path to Whiterun.

**So, how was that? Some of you may recognize Bjorn. I've changed him a bit. Pretty much the same personality but his background is a bit different. And I gave him a PIC. I'm curious to know what you all think of Ari. He is a completely new character that came from my re-workings. Just to give you an idea he is kind of a cross between Gannicus from Spartacus and Bronn from GoT. You'll see more of them to come.**

**Just a reminder to old readers and new information for new readers, I plan of having each hold in Skyrim have different customs. Though they are all Nordic, some have differences stemming from different northern/barbarian cultures. For instance, Whiterun and Windhelm are really Norse influenced and have more of a viking-type culture. Markarth on the other hand will have a lot of Celtic influence. Solitude will have more Imperial influence for obvious reasons. You get the idea. Also each hold will kind of have something it is known for like they already kind of do in the game. It will usually have something to do with their symbol. Whiterun have good horseman. Again, you get the idea.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading guys. I would really, really love it if you would review. I would really like to know what you think. Your input is very important to me. But make sure it is an actual review please. None of this one sentence crap. If you do or don't like it, tell me why. Thanks y'all.**


	4. The City of Fathers

**New chapter y'all. You know how last time I said it was going to be in Whiterun? I lied. I decided to take a journey to Windhelm to visit our favorite family, The Stormcloaks. You'll notice that there are more of them than just Ulfric in this chapter. As I have said many times before I am taking liberties so I gave Ulfric a family. I hope you all like it.**

**Thank you Timeywimeyspaceywacey (awesome name) for the reviews on the last three chapters. They really meant a lot.**

**Next time I promise we will for sure visit Jarl Balgruuf.**

**I own nothing. Enjoy.**

"Fuck the gods!" Alrek Stormcloak shouted to his father's housecarl Galmar Stone-Fist in the Palace of King's war room. "Are the men ready to depart or not? If we linger much longer, my father will already be in Cyrodiil being dragged to his death."

"Within the day, my Thegn," the housecarl responded. "We are trying to gather as many men as possible. Jarl Ulfric will be heavily guarded. We will need every man we can get."

"Tell them to move quickly," Alrek commanded in an angry tone. "If we are too late to save my father, may the Divines have mercy on any man who has caused delay, including you."

Galmar nodded his head and exited the war room to continue gathering men. Though Alrek could be difficult at times, Galmar believed that the young man would become a fine jarl one day. He would be a strong jarl like Ulfric who Galmar would be proud to serve. But for now he had to work to save the current jarl.

Windhelm had just received the news of Ulfric Stormcloak's capture at Darkwater Crossing a day ago. However, his actual capture had taken place a day before the news arrived. Therefore, everyone in the Palace of Kings had been scrambling to gather forces to mount a rescue as quickly as possible as they were already a day behind. Panic and fear were obvious no just for the life of their jarl but for the life of the rebellion as well. If Ulfric died, so did the rebellion. There was no other man who could inspire and lead the people the way he did.

Most believed that the Imperials would take him to Cyrodiil to be put to trial in front of Emperor Titus Mede. The Stormcloak captains felt that if they could move out soon enough with enough men, they could intercept the Legion and save the Jarl of Windhelm. There was one, however, who did not share this thought.

"What if they do not wish to take him to Cyrodiil?" Ranulf Stormcloak asked his older brother boldly. "What if they wish to execute him as soon as they can in hopes that it ends the rebellion. Tullius may be our enemy, but he is no fool."

"Our father is the Jarl of one of Skyrim's oldest holds and the leader to a rebellion." Alrek practically laughed at his brother's suggestion. "He is one of the most famous and powerful Nords in recent history. Do you truly believe that they would not seek to capitalize on opportunity to shame him? You are a fool little brother."

"As you say, father is powerful," Ranulf responded. "He wields far too much power not just for himself, but his power to inspire others. They will believe him too dangerous to be kept alive for that long. Tullius is wise enough to know that it matters not where or how they kill Father, but when they do it. Were I them, I would do it as soon as opportunity for a public execution presented itself."

"No," Alrek answered with quick anger. "He has caused the Empire far too much grief to be executed in any town. They wish to make an example of him and do it on the biggest stage possible, which is in front of the emperor in the capital. That is why we must move quickly. We haven't much time."

With that final comment, Alrek turned and left the war room as well to continue preparations. Ranulf, however, stayed and studied the map on the table alone.

"I fear that it is too late," he said to himself as he wiped his blonde hair from his eyes. "Father is likely bound for Sovengarde now, not Cyrodiil."

"You have no hope that he lives then?" a feminine voice came from the doorway leading to the palace's chambers.

"Thyri, what are you doing here?" Ranulf asked his younger sister. "Why are you not with Mother?"

"She has become a specter since word of Father's capture," Thyri responded as she walked towards her brother. "The only sounds she makes are those of wails and cries. Her grief haunts these halls dear brother and I know not how to comfort her. As we speak she sits upon bed staring into nothing but her own dark thoughts."

"It pains me to hear such things," Ranulf responded. "Her love for Father is deep and removing him from loving embrace would cause wound twice as deep."

Thyri nodded her head in sad agreement and her expression began to show worry. Ranulf noticed it instantly as he had seen it many times before a battle. He had always been able to read Thyri's face ever since they had been children.

"Something else troubles you?" he finally asked.

"You never answered my question," Thryi answered. "Do you have no hope?"

Ranulf now noticed that this was not the typical worry she showed when Father or Alrek went off into battle. It was worry for him. She was worried that he had lost all hope and she feared what might become of him because of that. But she retained a hope in her eyes that Ranulf still held on to a hope for something. What that hope was, Ranulf could not tell.

"I have hoped for many things in this life," Ranulf began. "I have hoped for war when we had peace and hope for peace now that we are at war. I have hoped for the lives of friends who have died and hope for the deaths of men who still live. Many things in the life I have hoped for, Thyri. But never once has my hope come to pass. There is still hope within me. But I refuse to let it emerge because hoping for anything does not make it so. Father may still yet be alive but hoping that it is so will not ensure it."

Thyri was taken aback by her brother's words. She did not doubt that he meant them but she could not quite understand what they meant. He had seemed different ever since the rebellion had begun. Though Ranulf had never had the bloodlust Alrek possessed, he had been eager for battle since childhood. When their father started this war, Ranulf had supported it. However, ever since his first battle, he had not been the same. Before she could respond a shout echoed through the palace.

"Jarl Ulfric returns! He approaches the city gates!"

Both Ranulf and Thryi exited the war room and ran into the main hall. The steward, Jorleif, and a few soldiers were in were in the main hall as well. They all began moving towards the palace doors to go into the city to meet their returning Jarl. Ranulf and Thryi followed behind them out into Windhelm's cold streets.

It seemed as everyone in the city had heard the announcement. Citizens flooded the streets in hopes to see the safe return of their Jarl. The palace guards were able to clear a path for the steward and the Jarl's two youngest children.

The group finally reached the main gate of Windhelm. Alrek, Galmar, and a few other lieutenants were already gathered around the giant, iron gate. The ancient carvings on the gate shook as the men manning it began to open the massive doors.

When the gate was finally open, Ulfric and fifteen other Stormcloaks rode into the city. The citizens of Windhelm cheered for their hero, Ulfric, and the returning soldiers.

"Hail Ulfric! Hail the Stormcloaks!" they all shouted.

Ulfric dismounted his horse and was immediately rushed by Thryi. Ulfric saw her and opened his arms for an embrace.

"Father!" she cried with joy as she leapt into her father's strong arms.

"Thyri," he spoke softly into her ear so that only she could hear him. Normally Ulfric had reservations about these kinds of displays in public. It was not a matter of not showing love for his children to the people but a matter of not appearing vulnerable. There were many people who would attack his family if it meant harm for Ulfric. But after everything that had happened in the last few days, he did not care.

Alrek and Galmar then approached Ulfric as he released his daughter from his embrace.

"Ulfric," Galmar began. "Are you hurt?"

"What happened?" Alrek asked. "How did you escape?"

"I am fine, Galmar," Ulfric answered his housecarl and oldest friend. "Come, we will discuss the events of the past few days elsewhere."

With that Ulfric leading the way, the company returned to the palace with Ranulf in the rear.

"A dragon?" Galmar questioned after Ulfric ended the tale of his capture and escape at Helgen. "I thought them only to be legends."

"I scarcely believe it myself old friend and I saw it with my own eyes," Ulfric replied.

Ulfric, Galmar, Jorleif, and Ulfric's children were all in the war room discussing the events of the past few days. None of them could comprehend the tale their jarl had just told them. A great, black dragon had just destroyed Helgen.

"Where could it have come from?" Alrek asked. "Could someone have sent it? The Thalmor perhaps?"

"Do not be a fool," Ranulf said to his brother, earning an icy glare in response. "Those are not the questions that we should ask. Dragons have not been seen for many centuries and have only returned just now. In the old stories, dragons were intelligent and cunning which means they have the ability to plan and make choices. The questions we must ask is, why Helgen and why now?"

"Your brother is right, Alrek," Ulfric told his eldest son. "I doubt the Thalmor even believed in dragons until now. I have no doubt that the dragon attack meant something but what that is, I do not know."

"Father," Thyri spoke tentatively. "You said that the dragon was black as night and brought fire from the skies. There is only one dragon that has ever been described as such. Alduin. Is it possible that the World-Eater has returned to bring the end of days?"

"I do not know," Ulfric answered honestly. "Right now, any thought on the matter is a possibility."

"Father," Alrek interjected. "If it is true that Alduin has returned, the legend says that a Dragonborn will rise to oppose him."

"Yes," Ulfric replied unsure of what his oldest son was about to say.

"Well," continued Alrek, "does it not seem likely that you are the Dragonborn the legend spoke of? You are already a student of the Thu'um and are the greatest hero in recent memory. It would make sense that the Divines choose you to rise to challenge the World-Eater and save us all."

Ulfric Stormcloak remained silent. He knew not what to say to his son. Part of him was touched by the regard his son held him in. It was possible that he was the Dragonborn of legend. There were signs all around him. But the other part of him was very skeptical. The Dragonborn was said to be a master of the Voice. Ulfric knew how to shout, but he was unsure if he could be considered a master. However, before he could answer his son, a voice came from the doorway.

"If that is so, then Akatosh chose a truly worthy man to battle his first-born," Ulfric Stormcloak's wife, Drifa, said.

No one spoke as she elegantly entered the room. Her once vibrant auburn hair now streaked with grey flowed behind her. Drifa Stormcloak, the Lady of Windhelm, had been a ghost since hearing of her husband's capture. It has shocked many, especially her own family, due to the fact that she had always seem so resilient whenever Ulfric or her sons had gone off to battle. When Ulfric was gone, she ran the hold and was none for being strong and fair amongst the people. But to see her collapse at hearing of her husband's capture was something no one had expected. Even now the signs of her grief still showed.

Ulfric was still speechless as his wife, his love, walked towards him. Though the signs of grief were written all over her, he still thought her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It nearly broke his heart to see her in such a state. She finally reached him and before she could speak another word, he pulled her body into his and held her like never before.

"Forgive me," was all he said to the woman he wished to make queen.

"I love you," was all she said in return.

Finally the embrace ended. No one in the room dared to speak until their Jarl did. After one last look at his wife, Ulfric addressed the rest of the people in the room.

"I do not know if I am the Dragonborn or not," he began. "What I do know is that Skyrim is in grave danger. I will do everything in my power to save her. But for now, I must rest. I feel trying times await us. But I promise you, I will rise and I will save the land of our fathers."

With that Ulfric led Drifa out of the war room and to their chambers. One by one the generals left the room. Then Alrek and then Thyri left as well. Only Ranulf remained in the room. He stood there simply trying to process all that had happened.

"Dark days are truly upon us," he said. "A hero must rise. But I fear it is not my father. Talos save us and give us the hero we need."

With that he too left the war room, unsure of what the future held and fearful of the days to come.

**How was that my friendly ostriches? Sorry for the long delay. Turns out stuff costs money which I don't have a lot of. Therefore, I am working a lot so I don't get much time to write. Please leave a review with comments/constructive criticism.**

**Hope to see y'all soon.**

**Flush.**


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